01 November 2012 4:04 PM

The philosopher Alain de Botton said in his book The Art of Travel that the underlying problem with the pastime was that you could never actually escape yourself.

We can be surrounded by the most magnificent scenery and exotic climes, but many of us are still worried about that unpaid credit card bill. You are always yourself no matter how far you wander.

Which is all very well if you’re a super-cool success story who is comfortable and confident no matter what. But what if you’re a bumbling, mistake-prone oaf?

I’ve been a travel journalist for more than ten years now, regularly writing for this very website. In reporting from all seven continents and some 40-odd countries, I have discovered that I AM that bumbling, mistake-prone oaf.

I used to joke that I’ve explored places far off the beaten track, but that it was mainly due to my appalling sense of direction.

However, when I came to collect some of the unpublished stories from my travels for a short anthology Narrowing My Horizons, I realised that pretty much all of them ended in acute embarrassment for me.

The protagonist of this book isn’t some swashbuckling, square-jawed hero, boldly exploring foreign landscapes with steely eyes and impeccable poise. No, he’s a clodhopping nitwit, bouncing from one ill-advised decision to the next, the only heroic thing being that he manages to make it there and back in one piece.

Vaguely clueless: Paul Oswell

Take a few of the ‘highlights’ from the stories (little wonder I didn’t include any of these in my reports).

I crash a skidoo into a snow bank, set my own shirt on fire in a wine cellar, have to cling on for dear life on a runaway horse, accidentally flash several Filipinos on a cruise, get thrown about in a yacht near the Isle of Wight and incur the wrath of an army wife with a personal vendetta in Thailand.

All of these things happen over the course of years, which can mean only one thing - I never even really developed as a human. Live and don’t learn – that seems to be my motto.

Is this typical? Do we all travel, repeatedly making the same mistakes, ending up in the same embarrassing situations? I would love you to tell me that I’m not alone.

There’s an optimistic theory of mine that being vaguely clueless does in fact have some benefits. A distinct lack of organisation, a naïve approach to touring and constantly getting lost does mean that you see a different side of the cities and resorts that you visit.

Why, I almost pity the people that slavishly follow their guidebooks, prepare for things weeks in advance and have a completely stress-free time, devoid of humiliating incidents. How many seamen have THEY ever flashed? Hardly any, I’m guessing.

If there are any lessons to be learned from Narrowing My Horizons – and as we’ve established, I am not big on learning lessons – then I would say it’s to embrace your inner idiot.

When you’re travelling to a new place – or, hell, even a place you’ve been tens of times before – don’t get stressed if you cause a hideous faux pas or harmlessly ignite parts of your clothing in an enclosed space.

Just relax into the situation, safe in the knowledge that once people have finished dousing you with glasses of water and your trousers have dried, you’ll at least have a great story to tell.

And how many super-cool, well-organised travellers can say that?

Narrowing My Horizons is available at www.amazon.co.uk, in print and Kindle versions. To buy a copy, you can click here.